Mundang is marked on the English maps of Nepal, but who was Lo Gapu, “the King of the Southern Land”? It sounded so grand.
The next pass is called Dorab-la, and from the top we see the Chockar-shung-chu, a broad valley with a brook draining partly from the Kore-la, and flowing to the Brahmaputra.
While we are resting, Guffaru passes with his black baggage-train in close order, a troop of laden yaks, whistling and singing Tibetans, and some Ladakis with our own horses as a rearguard. They soon disappear in the dust of the road, two of our men resting a while in a cleft to take a puff or two from their weather-worn narghilés. From this point they march westwards to the rendezvous, while we continue southwards.
In the valley leading up to the Ngurkung-la a large salt caravan on the way to Nepal was encamped. The twelve leaders had piled up a fine shelter of sacks of salt against the violent wind. We then came to the very broad valley which ascends to the saddle of the pass visible in the south. We rode up for hours, though the ascent was not noticeable, but the wind was dead against us. To the right is the water-parting chain of the Himalayas which we had seen from Tradum. A curious, sharply outlined cloud, like a white torpedo, covered it, and from the northern extremity small fleecy flakes parted from time to time and floated away. We camped near some black tents in a side valley close to the extraordinarily flat pass.
CHAPTER XLI
A PEEP INTO NEPAL
It was on June 22 that I stood on the platform of the Kore-la pass and gave a stolen glance into Nepal, and tried to get a glimpse of Dhaulagiri peak, 26,670 feet high. But the morning was dull, heavy clouds lay like pillows on the earth, and nothing could be seen of the surrounding mountains. “We must wait till it clears,” was the only order I could give. But just then a milk-girl came from a camp of 20 tents which was near at hand. The people were Nepalese subjects, but were camping on the Tibetan side. The girl said that it was only a short day’s journey to the nearest permanent dwellings and gardens, and two days’ journey to Lo Gapu’s summer residence.
Then we thought: “We may as well ride down the southern side of the pass as stay up here in the wind.” No sooner said than done! The tents are folded up, the animals laden, we mount and ride along the eastern side of the valley up to the Kore-la, which from the Tibetan side little resembles a pass, for to the eye the grass-grown on unfruitful loose ground seems quite level. Of the snowy mountains on the western side of the valley only the dark base is visible; layers of clouds lie close above the earth; one feels as though one could push one’s head against the roof. A ruined house, where perhaps a frontier guard once dwelt, a couple of long manis, and loose blocks of conglomerate stand on the top. A caravan comes up from Nebuk in the bottom of the valley.